


Wrong Address

by Calypso_Rising



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward Dean, Awkward situations, Bisexual Dean, Fluff and Crack, Lawyer Sam, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Meddling Sam, Neighbors, Pining Dean, Runner Castiel, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:18:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8567230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calypso_Rising/pseuds/Calypso_Rising
Summary: Dean knows it’s a little weird to stare out the window at his neighbor, but the guy’s incredibly good looking.  And besides, whenever Dean tries to talk to the guy, he always ends up tongue tied and nervous.  Dean’s pretty much accepted the fact that he’ll never be able to get to know the guy, but the unlikely combination of Sam, a scarring conversation, and the internet may just change that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by almost true events

Dean watched out his window eagerly as the moving truck pulled up next door.  It was early and it looked cold outside.  It could have been worse he guessed, but it was still a shit time to be moving into a new house.  What kind of person decided to move in February anyway?  His new neighbor, that’s who.  Was the person crazy? 

Dean wondered about that for a moment before deciding that it didn’t matter.  As long as the new neighbor didn’t yell at Dean about his satellite, things would be cool.  His old neighbor, Frank, was always ranting at Dean about the satellite, spouting nonsense about it being a listening device for the March of Dimes.  Dean had even caught the guy up on a small cherry picker trying to take the thing down one time.  Where Frank had found a damn cherry picker, he had no idea, and honestly, he was probably better off not knowing.  Dean had not been sorry to see that guy go. 

Dean gave one last glance at the moving truck before checking the time and seeing that he needed to get ready for work.  He’d hoped to at least catch a glimpse of his new neighbor, but it seemed that would have to wait.

A half hour later, Dean was ready to leave.  He gathered up his keys and pulled on his shoes and coat before stepping outside into the morning.  It was actually unusually warm out, and he nodded his head in approval as he looked toward his neighbor’s house.  No one was outside.  He watched for another moment, slightly disappointed.  Just as he was about to turn away though, a man stepped out onto the porch.  Dean barely registered the man’s appearance before his attention was diverted by a loud popping noise.  Dean flinched as the porch light above the man burst and sparks rained down around him.  As Dean’s eyes flicked from the light to the man, he was surprised to see the man standing calmly, squinting curiously at the light.   

“Are you okay?” Dean called somewhat tentatively.

The man turned his gaze from the porch light to Dean, cocking his head to the side with that same curious expression still in place.  “Yes,” the man replied.  “Just a broken light.”

Dean gaped at the calmness in the man’s voice.  His own heart was still beating a little rapidly from the whole thing, so he was amazed that the man, who had been much closer, was acting so nonchalant.  Dean searched for something to say.  As he did so though, his brain snagged on something.  Dean did a double take as he realized that the man was wearing the smallest pair of shorts Dean had ever seen on a guy.  And it looked good.  Really, outrageously, almost obscenely good.  Dean managed to move his eyes over the rest of the guy’s body, and things just got better.  Tall, lean, dark hair, intense eyes.  Dean felt his mouth go dry, and his heart rate rise again for a completely different reason. 

“I think it’s fine now,” the man added as one more pop of sparks flashed down, much weaker than those before.  Dean realized he had been staring at the man, and he cleared his throat.

“Okay, well, just be safety,” Dean called stupidly to the incredibly attractive man who was now his new neighbor. 

The man frowned just briefly as he sifted through Dean’s nonsense.  “I will.  Thank you,” he replied with a smile. 

Dean could feel embarrassment rising in his cheeks, and he had just enough sense left to nod before making a hasty retreat.  Dean managed to climb into the Impala without fumbling, then he managed to pull out of his driveway without incident, which was nothing short of a miracle.  As he made his way down the street, hands clutched tightly around the steering wheel, he prayed briefly that the next time he saw his neighbor, things would go better.

 

~*~*~*~

_Two and a half years later_

Dean gulped his coffee and grimaced.  The dark liquid nearly scalded his throat as it went down, but he was still too tired to care.  He glanced over to the clock on his microwave and startled.  It was time.  Doing his best to run to his living room without sloshing coffee everywhere, Dean took up his usual post by the front window.  He gazed out the glass and down the street waiting for it to happen.  Any second now…

There. 

There he was, at six forty-five on the dot, just like always. 

From around the corner, came his neighbor.  Every weekday morning, the tall, dark haired man arrived home from his morning run at this time, every morning, like clockwork.  Dean had discovered this by accident a little over two years ago, but he’d never been more thankful for anything in his life.  Dean watched as the man neared.  Today, he was clad in nothing more than a pair of little running shorts and a tight, tight t-shirt.  It looked amazing, and Dean nearly dropped his coffee as the man slowed to a jog before stopping completely on the sidewalk outside his house.  Dean may have gasped, too, but who could be sure. 

The man went through a few short stretches, and it was better than any sight Dean could ever imagine.  The man’s hair was disheveled, he looked flushed from his exertion, and his shirt was clearly soaked with sweat.  It was a thing of beauty and had, on more than one occasion, been the only reason Dean had forced himself out of bed on time.  Dean watched as the man bent forward and placed his palms flat on the sidewalk. 

 _Flexible_ , Dean thought as he hummed over the brim of his coffee mug.  The man bounced slightly in his stretch, and Dean almost dropped his coffee for a second time.  One day, that man would be the death of Dean, but what a sweet, hot, sexy death it would be. 

The man finished his stretches and disappeared inside his house.  Dean felt that little wave of disappointment that he felt every morning when the man finally went indoors followed quickly by guilt for ogling his neighbor so shamelessly.  The two men barely even knew each other, despite having lived next to each other for two and a half years.  Dean was usually friendlier than that, and when he’d first laid eyes on the guy, he had been determined to introduce himself, engage in some flirting, maybe see where that might lead...  It had never happened though.  Dean had tried on a few occasions at the beginning, but it hadn’t worked out.  Something about this particular man made Dean tongue tied and nervous in a way that was out of the ordinary for Dean.  As a result, he hadn’t even managed to ask the guy’s name before getting flustered and running away, and the guy had never made Dean’s life easy and just offered the information.  The two had mostly just said hello to each other in passing and exchanged some idle comments about the weather, but that was the extent of their relationship.  If you didn’t count Dean’s voyeurism every fucking day. 

Okay, and if Dean was being completely honest, he might have developed a crush on his neighbor as well.  It wasn’t anything serious.  How could it be when he didn’t even know the guy’s name?  It wasn’t a big deal, just Dean sometimes went out of his way to catch glimpses of the guy.  He may have also found himself wanting to know more about the guy’s life and what the guy’s favorite things were and what he hated and what he did for a living and whether he had siblings and whether he liked rainy days or sunny days.  And maybe the guy had slipped into one or two of his fantasies now and again.  It wasn’t a big deal.  They were neighbors, and Dean was a creep.  It wasn’t a big deal. 


	2. Chapter 2

“Why don’t you just go introduce yourself?” 

Dean jumped as Sam came up behind him and peered out the front window over Dean’s shoulder.  Dean did his best to act like he had been staring at anything except his neighbor, but it was no use.  Sam knew exactly what the fuck Dean had been up to.  Dean wasn’t exactly subtle, and his obsession with watching his neighbor was nothing new.  Dean moved away from the window and pretended to have a sudden interest in the contents of his bookshelves.  Sam stayed by the window and hummed thoughtfully.  Outside, his dark haired neighbor was mowing his lawn shirtless.

“Seriously, Dean.  Why don’t you at least try to talk to the guy?” Sam asked.  “It’s not like you to resist flirting with someone you find attractive.”

Dean huffed and did his best to look offended.  “Good to know you think so highly of me,” he grumbled.  Sam just rolled his eyes and waited for Dean to answer his question.  Dean considered kicking Sam out of the house so that he could return to watching his neighbor in peace, but decided that Sam probably wouldn’t leave even if Dean demanded it. 

“I don’t know,” Dean finally relented.  “It’s weird.  He’s my neighbor.  I don’t want to make things weird between us.”  It was close enough to the truth.  Honestly, Dean had no idea why he wasn’t trying to charm his way into his neighbor’s pants.  Not that he was completely sure that he would be successful even if he’d tried.  The few times they had talked to each other, Dean had been little more than a stuttering mess.  It wasn’t exactly a confidence booster. 

“Huh,” Sam breathed as he gave Dean an odd look. 

“Huh?” Dean mimed back.  “That’s all you have to say.” 

Sam shook his head and shrugged.  “I guess I’m not used to you being concerned about things like that.”

“Well, I am,” Dean said with an air of finality. 

“Uh huh,” Sam said skeptically.

That caused Dean to bristle.  “What, Sammy?  Am I not allowed to change?  To grow up a little maybe?”  Dean glared accusingly at his brother, but he had sounded too defensive to be threatening. 

“No, no,” Sam soothed.  “It’s not that.  It’s just… different.” 

Dean gave Sam an annoyed looked, but Sam didn’t seem to get the hint.

“You do like the guy though,” Sam observed.

Dean huffed again.  “How could I possibly like him?  I don’t even know his name,” Dean complained.  He was trying to act as put out as possible, but a tiny part of him hoped Sam would say something useful.  Because seriously, how could Dean like a guy he knew practically nothing about?   

“You could change that you know.”  Sam gave a significant look out the window, and Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Thank you for that profound piece of wisdom.  Any other advice you want to lay on me, Master Yoda?”

Sam turned back to look at Dean, raising one eyebrow.  “That doesn’t even make sense,” he said flatly.

“Yeah, well, your face doesn’t make sense,” Dean shot back. 

A long-suffering look passed over Sam’s face as he shook his head.  Dean sighed irritably and stomped his way into the kitchen, muttering the entire way.  Sam didn’t follow, and when Dean returned to the living room, Sam had gone back to staring out the window.  Dean cleared his throat pointedly, and when Sam turned around, he smiled.  For a moment, Dean thought he might try to keep talking about the whole thing with the neighbor.  Instead, he just made his way to the door and started to put on his shoes.  “I’ve got to go meet Jess, but I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

“Sure thing,” Dean called.  He tried not to glance at the front window, but it was hard to resist. 

After a brief good bye, the door closed behind Sam, and Dean immediately darted to the window.  His neighbor was still outside, although it appeared he just finished mowing.  Dean watched as Sam stopped to talk to the guy. 

“Damn it, Sam,” Dean hissed against the glass.  Sam and the guy shook hands, and they both laughed at something one of them had said.  Dean felt a bolt of jealousy go through him, and he wasn’t even that surprised.  The minutes started ticking by and Dean watched as the two kept talking.  It occurred to Dean that his little brother was officially exchanging more words with his neighbor in this one interaction than Dean had in the entire time they’d lived next to each other.  Dean groaned at that thought.  He supposed he could go outside as well and join their conversation.  The idea immediately sent his stomach churning though, and Dean cursed himself.

Dean had just started to wonder whether he was cursed or something when Sam gestured toward Dean’s house and his neighbor’s eyes followed.  Dean locked eyes with his neighbor through the window, and Dean swore as he dove out of sight.  The last thing he needed was for his neighbor to _know_ that Dean was watching him.  That was just plain weird. 

When Dean worked up the courage to finally peak out the window again, both Sam and his neighbor were gone.

  

~*~*~*~

 

The pop of his baby’s hood was like music to his ears.  He lifted the hood and propped it open and smiled as he took in her beautiful engine.  His baby was a little past due for her maintenance, but work had been busier than usual, so he hadn’t really had the time to dedicate to the Impala.  He finally couldn’t stand to put it off any longer though, and he’d promised himself that he’d spend time on her this weekend no matter what. 

Although the weather had been steadily warming up, it was now officially summer, and the days were just plain hot.  The mornings weren’t too bad though.  Dean didn’t usually like to wake up early on the weekends, but today, he’d been excited.  It was going to be nothing but motor oil and Zepplin, and that was his kind of morning.

He quickly fell into a familiar rhythm of checking parts and changing some out while making mental notes to keep an eye on others.  He worked methodically and carefully, and he felt soothed by the work.  The rest of the world started fading away bit by bit, and a half hour later, Dean felt happy.

“Good morning.” 

The unexpected voice startled Dean, and he nearly bashed his head against the hood as he jumped.  Irritable, he looked around to figure out who almost caused him to brain himself, and his eyes went wide as he realized it was his neighbor.  The man stood on his porch, and when Dean’s gaze landed on him, the guy gave a small wave.  Dean’s jaw dropped.  The man was standing there in nothing more than a pair of small shorts.  No shirt, no shoes, but Dean would definitely be servicing himself later. 

“Oh, uh…. Howdy,” Dean waved back like a complete dumb ass.  Howdy?  Who the fuck says howdy?  Like, probably cowboys, but do they really?  Dean couldn’t recall ever meeting an honest to god cowboy before, and he wondered briefly whether Sam might have ever met a cowboy.  Where did one go to even meet a cowboy?  A rodeo maybe?  Did this town even have rodeos?  Suddenly, Dean realized he’d been staring at his neighbor, not saying a word, while he had been thinking about cowboys.  He blushed furiously. 

“It’s getting warm,” his neighbor remarked politely.  The man squinted up at the sky as if he was gleaning some sort of information from the cloudless blue overhead.  Hell, maybe he was.

Dean let out a weird chuckle as he glanced up at the sky as well.  “Doesn’t look like rain at least,” Dean tried to joke.  It was a terrible fucking joke, and Dean couldn’t stop the frown that took over his face. 

His neighbor looked back at Dean, and his own polite smile faltered.  “Yes.  I believe we aren’t due for rain for quite some time,” his neighbor remarked, barely missing a beat.

Dean tried to smile, but his embarrassment was making that difficult.  He was pretty sure his cheeks were burning, and he worried about whether he had grease on his face.  Knowing his luck, he probably did, and it probably wasn’t the attractive, manly kind of grease on the face.  It was probably just smeared and the bad kind of messy. 

“Yeah,” he breathed.  “Summer and all.”  He made a weak hand gesture to accompany his even weaker attempt at conversation.

A weird silence fell, and Dean scrambled his brain for something else to say.  Preferably something suave and humorous, but he’d take just about anything at the moment.  He thought hard, but despite his lowered standards, he still couldn’t think of anything.  He shuffled nervously back and forth on his feet until his neighbor spoke up instead. 

“Okay.  Well… have a good day,” his neighbor said slowly, and he accompanied the words with another little wave. 

“You have, too… a good day,” Dean stammered stupidly, tripping over each word like they were in another language.  His neighbor disappeared back inside his house, and Dean turned around to lean heavily over the Impala’s engine.

“What the fuck?” Dean swore in a low whisper.  “What the hell is wrong with you?"  He always did this around his neighbor.  Even simple phrases were apparently too much for Dean to handle when that man was around.

He considered taking a moment of silence to remember and honor the Dean Winchester who was smooth as hell and charming as fuck since that Dean had apparently died and left behind this new, stammering, jack ass Dean in his place.  He then decided that he was probably being a little dramatic and sighed before returning back to work.


	3. Chapter 3

The thing about this whole situation was this - it had been a long time since Dean had gotten laid.  Ever since that whole, weird thing with Lisa, he just hadn’t had the heart to do the one-night stand thing.  He used to be the king of that shit, but now… Maybe he was just getting old or something because the whole thing just sounded like too much effort for too little pay off.  It might have been thrilling to have a different person in his bed each week when he was younger, but now it just seemed lonely. 

That didn’t mean that Dean didn’t have needs though.  Dean typically did just fine with his trusty right hand and a little something to ease the glide, but lately, it wasn’t satisfying.  Dean’s sex drive had gone through the roof recently, and despite his best efforts, he was insatiable.  Dean was therefore left in the uncomfortable position of being horny as hell, but unable to do anything really meaningful about it. 

Although he pretended like he didn’t know the cause of his little dilemma, it was glaringly obvious that his neighbor was to blame.  With the warmer weather, his neighbor apparently felt that, for his morning runs, he needed to expose as much of himself as possible while just barely skirting the lines of public decency.  The guy also seemed to think that this should extend to any outdoor activity around his home as well, from grabbing the mail to doing yardwork.  And every time Dean turned around, his neighbor was right there doing something that involved a lot of bending over and a lot of sweating in as little clothing as possible.  Seriously, it was like the guy hated clothes or something.  Every time Dean looked, there the guy was in nothing more than a pair of small shorts.  Why did the guy even own so many pairs of small shorts?  Did he own a fucking small shorts business or something?  Whatever the reason, as summer heated up, Dean’s world got a lot sexier, and Dean got a lot more sexually frustrated. 

Dean had been bemoaning his fate one Friday evening when he received a text from Charlie telling him to meet everyone at The Roadhouse for drinks.  Dean was half relieved and half annoyed at the invitation.  He was annoyed because, that night, his neighbor had decided that the best way to read a book was outside, laying on his back in the grass, in those ridiculous shorts.  Dean hadn’t meant to stare at his neighbor this time, he really didn’t, but the man’s posture was so open and inviting.  One knee was bent and opened to the side while the arm that wasn’t holding the book was sprawled open to the opposite side.  The fading sun light also spilled across his body, accentuating the golden tones of his skin and the grooves of his ab muscles.  It was a sight that deserved to be seen, and Dean wanted to relish in it.  Dean was relieved though, too.  He couldn’t help staring, but he felt like a creep for it.  He knew he probably wouldn’t have stopped watching until his neighbor went inside, so Charlie’s demand that Dean meet now was probably for the best.  At the very least, knowing that if he didn’t show up, Charlie would hunt him down, was at least incentive for him to stop.  After only a few more lingering minutes and a few more text messages from Charlie wondering where he was at, Dean finally left for The Roadhouse. 

It was a typical night there.  The place was busy, but Charlie had somehow managed to secure them their usual table.  Sam was there, along with Jess and Ash and a few other people.  They ordered food and had some drinks and carried on with their usual banter, and soon Dean’s thoughts about his neighbor faded into the background.

As the evening progressed though, their conversation veered into stranger territory.  Dean was pretty sure it started with a debate about the intricacies of Vulcan sex (thank you, Charlie), which then somehow devolved into talk about self-love and sex toys.  It was an unusual conversation with a lot of awkward spots, and Dean actually had to plug his ears and hum loudly when Sam felt compelled to add his own personal knowledge to the insanity.  At some point though, Dean’s attention had been involuntarily forced back to the conversation when someone mentioned “male masturbators”.  He had sat in horror at first as Ash had taken it upon himself to describe them in somewhat vivid detail and with rather elaborate gestures, and he had drowned out the rest of the conversation in numerous shots of whiskey when Garth decided to jump in and add his own observations.  Luckily, things got a little less awkward after that, but it was too late.  Dean had already had to drink far too much in order to deal with the things that had come out of his friends’ mouths, and he was sloshed. 

When Dean finally made his way home, things had not improved.  He was drunker than he’d been in a long time, and drunk him thought that it couldn’t hurt to have one more drink before bed.  He poured a generous glass of whiskey and settled in front of the couch.  He intended to watch TV before calling it a night, but that plan went to hell when he looked toward the back window and remembered the sights he’d seen from that vantage point earlier.  Turning those images over in his head, Dean set down his drink on the coffee table.  His eyes fell to his laptop, which was sitting right there within reach, and, well…

Naturally, thing got porny from there.  Dean clicked drunkenly from video to video, all the while telling himself that he was not looking for a tall, dark haired man to watch have sex.  At some point in his endeavors, he recalled the conversation from The Roadhouse and the male masturbators.  Curiosity piqued (and inhibitions sufficiently lowered by alcohol), Dean soon found himself browsing a mind boggling variety of male masturbators on a sex toy website.  He hadn’t gone to the website with the intention of buying anything, but after a little browsing (and more alcohol) and reading the guarantee about discrete shipping (and a little more alcohol), Dean had chosen a few items, entered his credit card number, and hit order. 

As he closed the computer and set it back on the table, living room spinning just a little, he was convinced that these new toys were the answer to his sexual frustration.  Dean congratulated himself on being such a good thinker as he settled back more comfortably on the couch.  _Yeah, sex toys would make everything better,_ he thought as he closed his eyes for just a second _._   It was the last thought he had before immediately passing out.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean shimmied his hips as he sang into the mirror.  AC/DC was on full blast, and he performed a kick ass turn move as he snatched the glass cleaner bottle off the floor and sprayed down the bathroom mirror.  With another rock star quality move, he plucked the paper towels off the counter and began wiping the mirror clean.  Dean cleaned his whole house once a week, and this was the way he always did it, singing and pulling out his best dance moves while getting shit accomplished.    

Dean gestured sexily with one hand while pouring toilet cleaner into the bowl with the other.  He slipped on his rubber gloves and busted out the air guitar as the final notes of the song rang throughout his entire house.  As the music went silent, Dean thanked his adoring fans and was just promising an encore to his nonexistent audience when his doorbell chimed.  Caught off guard, Dean made his way to the living room.  The next song was starting, so he pulled off one glove and clicked off the stereo.  He then made his way to the front door to see who was there.  He wasn’t expecting anyone, but sometimes Charlie or Garth would just drop by unannounced. 

Swinging open the door, Dean froze as he found his neighbor standing on his doorstep.  Dean was somewhat surprised to see that the man was actually wearing a shirt and shoes with his small shorts today.  It was a little disappointing, but probably the best for everyone. 

“It’s you,” Dean blurted before he could get himself in check. His neighbor’s eyes darted up just briefly to Dean’s face before dropping again.  The man’s cheeks were red, and he looked uncomfortable.  Dean realized belatedly that he still had on one rubber glove, so he pulled it off his hand and tossed it behind him without looking, hoping that maybe his neighbor hadn’t noticed. 

“This is yours,” the man said in a rush.  He pushed a cardboard box into Dean’s hands that Dean hadn’t realized the guy had been holding.  The box was unsealed, and there was some plastic packaging sticking out of it. 

“What?” Dean asked as he eyed the package the man had given him. 

The man’s eyes darted around wildly.  “Uh… it’s yours.  The delivery people… They um…” The guy looked completely lost and bewildered, and Dean worried that the guy was having some sort of episode or something.   

“Breathe, man,” Dean urged.  Surprisingly, the guy did just that, and inhaled deeply before letting his breath out slowly. 

“That was delivered to my house by mistake,” the man explained.

“Oh,” Dean said quietly as he looked down at the box.  He couldn’t remember ordering anything, so he wondered what it was.  Maybe he’d made a mistake when ordering something for the shop.  He’d done that before.  Dean looked at the plain box and then at the shipping label.  On it, he was clearly labeled as the recipient, but there was only an unfamiliar address where the sender information should be.  “It’s open,” Dean stated the obvious like a god damn champion.

The man’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, and he ran a hand through already disheveled hair.  “Ah, yes,” the man replied nervously.  “I have been waiting on a few items to arrive, and I didn’t look at the label, and I just opened it.”  The man looked overly embarrassed by the whole situation, which was confusing.

“It’s cool.  I’m not worried about it,” Dean assured the guy.  The guy’s eyes snapped up to Dean’s, and they were impossibly wide.  The guy looked like he’d just committed some huge crime or something.  The man’s mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out.   

“Thanks for bringing this,” Dean gestured to the box when it became apparent his neighbor wasn’t going to say anything.

The man gulped visibly and nodded.  “Yes, of course,” he answered weakly. 

The man lingered for a second more before practically leaping from Dean’s doorstep and running back to his own house.  Dean stared after the man, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.  As far as their interactions went, Dean was pretty proud of this one.  He had barely stumbled or said anything stupid at all.  In fact, he had played it pretty cool.  Yeah, he’d been on his motherfucking game. 

So, why had the guy run off like that then?  

Dean felt a small prickle of disappointment rise up within him.  Before it could grow too large though, he shoved it aside and decided to think about his neighbor’s strange reaction later.  Dean closed his front door and took the box to the kitchen table, placing it gently on the wood surface before pulling back the cardboard flaps to see what was inside.  He really couldn’t remember ordering anything, and he felt a little like a kid on Christmas.  He chuckled at the thought as he pulled aside the plastic packaging.  Dean’s smile evaporated instantly and his blood ran cold as he stared into the box.  Inside sat four bright packages proclaiming the words “male masturbator” in huge, impossible to miss letters.  The memory of his drunken internet shopping spree suddenly came flooding back, and Dean felt like he was going to be sick. 

His neighbor had received this package.

His neighbor had accidentally opened this package. 

His neighbor now thought he was a pervert.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean spent the next two weeks doing everything in his power to avoid seeing his neighbor.  His humiliation was so great that he’d even shunned his ritual of watching his neighbor return from his run every morning on the off chance that the guy might somehow see Dean in the window.  He’d thought that with a little time, maybe knowing that his neighbor had seen firsthand where Dean was sticking his dick would become less horrifying.  He had been wrong though.  If anything, as time passed, Dean’s embarrassment just seemed to intensify.  All Dean could think about was that there was no way to recover from your hot neighbor seeing your sex toys, especially after you had lead him to believe that you were cool with it.  It was fucking miserable.

Sam noticed Dean’s misery almost immediately.  For two weeks, Sam poked and prodded at Dean and asked Dean all kinds of annoying questions in his sympathetic “I’m just here to listen to you” voice.  Dean adamantly refused to tell his brother what was wrong for obvious reasons, and although Sam bitched about Dean’s silence, a pissy Sam was much better than scarring them both for life with a chat about Dean’s sex toy mishap. 

All good things must come to an end though, and two weeks and one day after the Sex Toy Incident of 2016, Sam gave Dean an ultimatum.  Dean either could tell Sam what was wrong, or he could come to The Roadhouse for dinner and if he didn’t sulk, Sam would drop the whole thing.  Dean had refused to do either, but when Sam mentioned that he was buying, Dean decided that dinner didn’t actually sound that bad.   

By the time Dean had arrived at The Roadhouse, he’d actually managed to convince himself that maybe things weren’t that bad.  On the drive, he’d reasoned that a lot of people have sex toys.  He also reasoned that the toys he had chosen weren’t that weird.  He could have ordered one of those really ridiculously oversized cocks or the masturbator that was shaped like a god damn vampire’s mouth.  He was sure there were probably even weirder things that he could have ordered as well, but he was lacking the imagination to figure out just what that might entail.  Either way, the moral of the story was that things could have been even worse and maybe his neighbor wasn’t really all that freaked out anyway.  It wasn’t an ideal situation, but Dean entered The Roadhouse feeling a lot more positive than he had felt in a while. 

As usual, The Roadhouse was packed.  Dean scanned the crowds and spotted Sam sitting in a booth near the back corner.  Dean made his way over to the table and as he approached he smiled widely.

“Hope you brought extra money, Sammy, ‘cause I’m not a cheap date,” he joked.  He was about to add something else about not putting out, but the words died in his throat as he noticed that his neighbor was also sat at the table.  Dean was fairly certain he felt the blood rush from his head, and he reeled slightly as he stared at the one person he was really not prepared to see right now. 

“Dean, this is your neighbor, Castiel,” Sam announced proudly, completely oblivious to Dean’s sudden discomfort.  “I hope you don’t mind, but he dropped in to pick up some food while I was waiting for you, and I invited him to join us for dinner.”

Dean’s eyes darted from Sam to his neighbor and back again.  Sam was practically beaming up at him, and Dean knew that this was Sam’s way of trying to play matchmaker.  Dean glanced from Sam to his neighbor, but his neighbor was doing his best to look anywhere except at Dean.  Dean spluttered stupidly and obviously took too long to say anything since Sam gave him a dirty look and motioned his head toward the dark haired man. 

“Dean,” Sam hissed quietly.

Dean snapped out of the heart attack he was having and gave a strained smile.  “That’s great,” he lied as he motioned for Sam to scoot over in the booth. 

“Ow,” Dean cried as he received a hard kick to the shin.  Sam gave him another pointed look, and Dean realized that Sam intended for Dean to sit on the side with his neighbor.  Dean shot Sam a look that was half pleading and half death threat, but Sam didn’t budge.  Finally, after realizing he was just making himself look like a bigger idiot, Dean moved stiffly to the other side and slid into the seat next to the dark haired man. 

“Castiel here actually works at the hospital with Jess,” Sam said pleasantly once Dean was settled into his seat.  The booth was somewhat small, but Dean was doing his absolute best to keep as much distance between himself and his neighbor – Castiel apparently.  He stole a quick glance at the man next to him and noticed that the man seemed to be doing the same.

“Is that right?” Dean mumbled when Sam shot him another dirty look.  When Castiel didn’t reply, Sam just nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, Castiel is an ER doctor, too,” Sam supplied.  Dean let out a snide snort of laughter.  Sam’s eyes went wide, and Dean quickly got himself under control.  Of course, he thought.  Of course his neighbor was Doctor fucking Sexy.  Of.  Fucking.  Course.  Now Dean could just add lab coats and medical rooms to the list of things that he associated with sex.  Great.  That wouldn’t make his next check-up uncomfortable as hell.

An awkward silence descended upon the table, and Dean opened the flimsy plastic menu lying in front of him.  He always ordered the same thing whenever he came here, but pretending to read the menu at least gave him something to do while wishing the pits of hell would open up and swallow him whole.

His “pretend to read the menu” trick came to an end quickly though.  The waitress came by their table far too soon and took their order far too efficiently.  Dean really didn’t want to give up the menu, so the poor waitress practically had to pry it out of Dean’s hand before she could leave.  Dean watched forlornly as she took his only line of defense back to the bar leaving him with nothing except the world’s most awkward dinner in front of him.    

When he turned his attention back to the table, Sam was giving him a puzzled look.  Dean ignored it, and the table was silent.  After a few moments, Sam took up his new, self-appointed job as the fucking social director of Dean’s life once more.

“So Castiel,” Sam began.  The man next to him started, and his cheeks flushed slightly as he looked at Sam.  “How long have you lived next to Dean?”

_Almost two and a half years,_ Dean’s brain instantly supplied.

“Almost two and a half years,” Castiel answered.  Dean couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his face.  He remembered the day Castiel had moved in.  It was the first day he’d been introduced to Cas’ small shorts collection…

“And were you already living in town?”

“No.  I was in California originally.  A small, nothing town in the middle of nowhere,” Castiel gave a small chuckle as he answered, and Dean decided that he really liked that sound. 

“So why move here then?  It isn’t exactly the most exciting place ever,” Sam asked curiously.  Despite his embarrassment, Dean could at least appreciate the opportunity to learn more about Castiel’s life, too.

“Oh,” Castiel breathed.  “My brother had moved here for a job some time ago, and when a position opened up at the local hospital, he sent me the posting.  I think it was his way of telling me that he missed me, and, despite my better judgment, I missed him, too.  So, I applied and that was that.” 

Sam nodded politely while Dean tried his best not to stare at the man next to him.  “What about you two?” Castiel questioned.  “What brings you two to this thriving metropolis?”

“Grew up here,” Sam offered.  “We both went away for school, but came right back.” 

“And you’re an attorney, Sam?” Castiel prompted.

“That’s right.  I do a lot of family law, custody, divorce, things like that.  I’m hoping maybe one day to do something different, but for the moment, I’m happy.” 

Castiel made a polite noise of interest, and Sam launched into a long explanation about the finer (i.e. boring) parts of being an attorney.

“And you, Dean?”  Dean’s knee hit the table as he jumped at the sound of his name.  He had tuned out somewhere around the time Sam had mentioned the words “ethical obligation” and he had not been prepared to hear his name come out of Castiel’s rough looking lips.   

“Huh?” Dean squawked ineloquently. 

Castiel’s polite smile didn’t falter as he repeated, “What is it that you do for work, Dean?” 

Dean had to suppress a shiver at the sound of his name again.  It was bad enough his neighbor had already seen Dean’s sex toys, he didn’t need to also see Dean trying to conceal an erection in a public place.

“I, uh, I own an auto repair and restorations shop.  Winchester Automotive,” Dean stammered.  He shifted in his seat and briefly wondered what he had done to deserve this special hell he had found himself in.

“Oh, you own Winchester Automotive?” Castiel gasped. 

Dean felt his cheeks flush at the look of awe on Castiel’s face.  “That’s me,” Dean chuckled nervously.

“You did my brother’s car,” Castiel said, turning visibly excited as he spoke.  “The cherry red ’62 Chevy Nova,” he prompted.  “You did a beautiful job.”

It only took Dean a second to remember the car and her owner.  “Gabe’s car?  Your brother is Gabe?” Dean demanded, forgetting all about the embarrassment he was supposed to be feeling.  Gabe had been a good client, but the man was definitely something else.  In fact, Dean hadn’t been able to look at a lollipop in the same way after meeting Gabe.     

Castiel’s smile widened as he reached for the pint glass in front of him.  “Yes, but don’t hold that against me,” Castiel said teasingly.

“As long as you don’t hold Nerdylocks over there against me,” Dean smiled back.  Sam let out an indignant huff while Castiel laughed.

“Deal,” he said finally.

“Deal,” Dean repeated as their eyes locked.

The waitress appeared at the table right then and delivered their food.  Dean had been so nervous before that he hadn’t taken note of what Castiel had ordered, but he smiled approvingly when he saw that Castiel had ordered a bacon cheeseburger as well.  Guy couldn’t be that bad if he liked burgers, and he didn’t seem to share some of Gabe’s more annoying quirks... 

They laughed and ate, and it turned out that Sam knew Gabe as well.  Apparently, Gabe was also an attorney and had made a habit out of flirting with Sam whenever they bumped into each other.  Dean howled with laughter as Castiel shared some of the more interesting stories about Gabe, and Sam even added a few as well.  The time went by easily, and before Dean knew it, their plates were empty, and he’d completely forgot that he had any reason to be embarrassed around his neighbor. 

“And that’s pretty much how I found myself in the world’s shittiest hotel,” Sam finished his story.  Dean smiled fondly at his little brother and the story he’d heard too many times before, while Castiel shook his head in amusement.  Sam wiped his hands on his napkin and stood up from the booth.  “Speaking of co-workers.”  Sam nodded towards the front of the place, and Dean looked to see a man he recognized as Brady standing near the bar.  “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” Sam said before disappearing into the crowd.

As Sam moved further and further away, the mood of the table took a turn.  All the uneasiness that had somehow disappeared over the course of the night came back full force.  Things instantly turned awkward, and it was like the specter of Dean’s sex toys was just flopped out on the table in front of them.  Dean cleared his throat and shifted in his seat trying his best to appear composed.  Next to him, Castiel looked like he was trying to do something similar, and neither man spoke for a long minute. 

The silence became oppressive though, and Dean couldn’t take it anymore.  In a rare moment of emotional maturity, Dean decided that his best course of action would be to just face the situation head on.

“Look,” both men said at the exact same time.  They both snapped their mouths shut and stared at the other expectantly.  When it became obvious that they were both waiting for the other to speak, Dean finally decided to begin. 

“Look,” Dean repeated.  “I’m sorry for that whole wrong delivery thing.  That was pretty awkward.”  Dean tried to smile reassuringly, but he was pretty sure he failed.  

“No, no,” Castiel said quickly.  “It was fine.  I mean… it was…”  Castiel got that same bewildered look he had on earlier, and his eyes flitted around the room before settling.  “I mean, it was a bit awkward, but I understand.  We all have needs and sometimes you need to fill those needs in certain ways and sometimes one needs a degree of stimulation and sensation that is not-“ 

“Yeah,” Dean interrupted, not wanting Castiel to finish that sentence.  He ran a hand across the back of his neck and tried to think of a way to leave things on a more positive note before he ran away and hid from his neighbor forever.  “It has just been a while, and it was starting to get to me, and I just thought, hey maybe…”  Dean’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what he had been about to say.  “Shit, that was TMI,” he apologized.  “I’m sorry.”

“It has been a while for me, too,” Castiel blurted.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up.  “No way,” he said in disbelief.

“Almost three years,” Castiel replied.  His eyes were wide like he was shocked he was telling Dean this information.  Dean couldn’t exactly blame the guy.  He wasn’t really sure why he was keeping this conversation going either.

“A hot guy like you?” Dean couldn’t help demanding.  Castiel looked taken aback for a moment, and something Dean couldn’t identify flitted across his face.  Dean cursed inwardly.  Castiel was most likely straight and probably didn’t appreciate Dean commenting about his appearance during a talk about Dean’s sex toys.  Dean opened his mouth to apologize for his newest fuck up, but Castiel spoke first.

“You think I’m hot?” Castiel asked quietly.  His eyes flicked up to Dean’s before fixing themselves firmly on the table. 

“Oh, um… I didn’t mean to offend you, and I wasn’t trying anything.  I mean, like, I bat for both teams, ya know, but I wasn’t…” Dean’s words faded into an almost hysterical chuckle, and he felt himself start to sweat.

“You’re bisexual?”  Castiel’s head popped up, and he fixed Dean with what was undoubtedly a hopeful gaze.

Dean hesitated for just a moment.  “Yes?” he answered.  Castiel frowned.

“Yes,” Dean said again, this time with more confidence.

Castiel’s eyes dropped back to the table, and Dean could see that he was thinking hard about something.  Dean officially had no idea where the fuck this conversation had gone, so he decided his best bet was to keep quiet.  After a few minutes, Castiel nodded to himself and turned to face Dean more fully. 

“Would you like to go home with me, Dean?” Castiel asked determinedly. 

“Like carpool together?” Dean practically whimpered.  He was not going to get his hopes up until this was spelled out in neon lights.

Castiel barked out a sharp laugh and shook his head.  Dean’s heart rate sped up as he waited for Castiel to clarify.  “No, like maybe instead of one of those toys… you could fuck me instead tonight?” Castiel said in a low, almost inaudible whisper. 

Dean choked on the air as his head nearly exploded.  Castiel shot him a concerned look, but Dean waved it off.  “That sounds great,” he replied, and even to his own ears, he sounded way too eager.

Castiel smiled slyly, and his eyes darkened.  “Alright then, we should probably let your brother know we are leaving.” 

Dean nodded dumbly, and when Castiel nudged him and motioned for him to get out of the booth, Dean didn’t waste any time in standing up. 


	6. Chapter 6

Sam had been engrossed in his conversation with Brady, so hadn’t noticed when his two dinner companions were suddenly thrumming with tension and leaving a bar together as they bid him goodnight.  It was a small victory, but one Dean appreciated nonetheless.  He didn’t really need Sam to know what he was about to get up to, and he really didn’t want to risk Sam trying to talk him out of it for some reason. 

They had both driven to the bar that night, and since it was a short drive back to their homes, both men agreed to skip the carpool and drive back separately.  It wasn’t ideal, but luckily the drive was short enough that Dean didn’t have a lot of time to think about all the ways sleeping with your neighbor could go wrong.

When Dean pulled into his driveway, he saw Castiel waiting in his front yard.  It only took Dean a minute to get out of the car and make his way to the other man. 

“Miss me?” Castiel teased.  He took a small step closer to Dean, and Dean felt heat prickle across his skin.

“Yes,” Dean answered.  Usually he would have _tried_ to say something clever back, but his brain felt like it was barely working as it was, so wit would have to wait.  Castiel seemed pleased with the answer regardless and motioned Dean to the front porch and into his home. 

Dean hadn’t known what to expect.  He thought maybe as soon as the front door shut that Castiel would be on him or maybe he would be on Castiel.  That didn’t happen.  Instead, Dean found himself momentarily distracted by Castiel’s home.  It hadn’t exactly slipped his mind, but being inside of Castiel’s space reminded Dean that, although he had been neighbors with this man for quite some time, he really knew very little about him. 

Dean’s eyes moved across a modest sized living room that spilled open into a bigger kitchen.  Everything was shades of blue and grey and rather than be boring and depressing, it looked cheerful and clean.  There were books crammed into a long row of shelves, and bright oil paintings hanging from the walls.  Every little thing Dean’s eyes landed on added something to his knowledge about the man he had always wanted to get to know.

“There will be time to look at the décor later,” Castiel purred into his ear.  Goosebumps erupted down Dean’s body, and he inhaled sharply. 

“Okay,” Dean said faintly as Castiel took his hand and led him gently down the hall.  They entered what was presumably Castiel’s bedroom.  It was done in the same shades of blue and grey as well, but that’s about all Dean was able to notice before his whole world narrowed to the man in front of him.

Before he could think, Castiel pressed Dean up against a dresser.  It rattled violently as their combined weight hit it, and Dean heard something get knocked over.  He didn’t have time to wonder what it was before Castiel’s lips were on his.  As Dean had imagined, Castiel’s lips were rough, but somehow still wonderful.  They kissed each other a little desperately, and it wasn’t long until Dean’s hands started to wander.

He had spent so many mornings watching Castiel return from his runs, shirtless and sweating, and wondering what it would be like to run his hands down that chest, down that stomach, over those hips.  As he pushed his hands up under Castiel’s shirt, Dean realized that none of his fantasies had even come close to reality.  The lean muscles of Castiel’s body were firm under his hand, but still inviting.  His skin was warm and soft, and Dean felt a fleeting bit of self-consciousness as he wondered what Castiel thought of Dean’s own body.  Before Dean could worry though, Castiel’s fingers moved to tangle in Dean’s hair, and he used his hold to pull Dean’s head to the side.  Castiel began kissing up and down Dean’s neck, and a moan escaped him.

Eventually, Castiel pulled away.  With a wicked smile, his hands dropped to the hem of Dean’s shirt.  “Off,” Castiel commanded as he pushed the fabric up Dean’s stomach. 

Not one to argue when it came to getting naked, Dean eagerly pulled off his shirt and moved his hands to the other man’s shirt to do the same.  Castiel’s shirt came off easily, and although Dean had seen Castiel’s bare chest before, it had always been from a distance.

“Oh god,” Dean breathed, running a hand down Castiel’s chest.  “Your body is even hotter up close.”

Castiel laughed softly at that, and he ran his fingers lightly up Dean’s sides.  “Up close?” Castiel quirked up his eyebrow.  “You’ve been looking at my body from far away?” 

Dean felt a flush of embarrassment color his cheeks.  “Come on,” he complained playfully.  “It’s like you don’t even know what clothes are when you’re outside.”

Castiel laughed again while rolling his hips into Dean’s.  The sudden friction against his dick felt amazing, and Dean let out another moan.  “Were you spying on me, Dean?”  Castiel nipped lightly at his lips and dropped his hands to Dean’s belt buckle.

“Fuck,” Dean breathed as Castiel worked the buckle loose.

“Were you?” he pressed in a low, teasing voice.  The buckle opened, and Castiel’s fingers fell to the button of Dean’s jeans.

Dean swallowed, and he was surprised that he had enough blood left in his brain to wonder how he should respond to that.

“You were kind of hard to miss,” Dean hedged. 

Castiel hummed and popped the button of Dean’s jeans.  He worked the zipper down and dipped his fingers just below the line of Dean’s boxers. 

“I had hoped you would see me,” Castiel murmured.  He nuzzled Dean’s face for a moment before capturing his lips into another kiss.  “And I saw you,” Castiel continued.  “All those times you were bent over the engine of your car or doing yardwork outside.”  Castiel kissed him a second time and began pushing Dean’s jeans past his hips.  “Of course, you insist on wearing so many layers all the time.”

Dean let out a huff of laughter and a thrill went through his body.  He had never considered the idea that Castiel might be watching him, too.  The idea made his already hard cock throb more, and he knew that he wasn’t going to last long once things got going. 

“Well, now’s your chance to get me in as little clothing as you’d like,” Dean murmured against Castiel’s lips.  Castiel didn’t seem to need any more of an invitation.  In one smooth motion, the man dropped to his knees, yanking Dean’s jeans down with him.  Carefully, he helped Dean step out of them before tossing them to the other side of the room.  He ran his hands up Dean’s legs until they settled on the band of his boxers.  Castiel teased his fingers underneath the band before pulling the boxers down in one swift movement.  The dark haired man moved slowly up Dean’s body, trailing his fingers up his legs, over his hip bones, up his stomach.  Dean’s cock ached for attention, but Castiel’s hands moved right on past.  Dean moved his hands to Castiel’s hips and realized that Castiel still had his pants on.  Before he could try to remove them though, Castiel’s hand dropped down.

“Oh god,” Dean groaned as Castiel’s hands wrapped firmly around Dean’s cock.  The man stroked up and down Dean’s length a few times, and Dean grasped at the sides of the dresser.  Dean was trying his best to remain upright as Castiel’s hand moved gently up and down his shaft.  Far too soon, he could feel himself getting close. 

Somewhat reluctantly, he dropped his hand to Castiel’s to still the other man’s movements.  “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up,” Dean admitted.  Castiel’s eyes darkened with lust, but he moved his hand away.  Dean didn’t waste any time in undoing Castiel’s jeans and working both them and Castiel’s boxers off.  Castiel stepped out of the clothing that was now around his ankles before motioning to the bed.  Dean moved away from the dresser, and Castiel pushed him gently down onto his back.  Dean went down willingly and moved up the mattress until his head was on the pillows. 

Castiel looked almost predatory as he climbed up onto the bed and moved on his hands and knees up Dean’s body.  When he reached, he leaned down and gave Dean a slow, deep kiss.  Dean didn’t wait for the kiss to end as he reached between them and circled his hand around Castiel’s dick.  Castiel gasped and faltered.  His chest connected squarely with Dean’s, and Dean nudged Castiel so that they were laying side by side.  Dean began working Castiel, up and down, at a steady pace.  Castiel’s eyelids fluttered shut, and Dean thought it was possibly one of the hottest things he had ever seen.  Dean was so focused on watching Castiel’s reaction, he didn’t notice when the other man moved to grab his dick.  Pleasure flooded through Dean as Castiel’s fingers wrapped around him.  Castiel stroked slowly at first, but soon, the two men were working each other at the same frantic rhythm.  It wasn’t long before their breathing turned ragged, and they were both panting and babbling against each other’s lips.

“Oh, oh, Dean,” Castiel moaned as the motion of his hand began to falter.  Dean kept his motions steady, and after only a few more strokes, Castiel was coming over his hand.  The warm liquid spilled down Dean’s fingers as he worked Castiel through his orgasm, and he could feel the tension leave the other man’s body as he came back down.  Castiel’s hand had stilled, but it hadn’t left Dean’s dick.  As soon as he was able, Castiel began working Dean furiously.  It didn’t take long until Dean’s body tensed, and he followed his own pleasure over the edge. 

“Fuck,” he laughed when he’d finally come back down and regained his composure.

“Agreed,” Castiel sighed as he rolled onto his back. 

“I didn’t expect to be doing this tonight.” 

Castiel let out a chuckle and turned his head toward Dean.  Dean turned his head as well and was pleased that Castiel’s face was so close to his.  “Would it be terribly wrong to say that I’ve wanted to do this for a long time?”

“You have?” Dean asked in shock.  “For how long?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Castiel said slowly.  “I’d say for somewhere around two and a half years.”  He smiled a bit sheepishly, as Dean raised his eyebrows.  

“Same here,” Dean smiled.  “Ever since you showed up with that moving truck, and those damn shorts and started driving me crazy.” 

“Are the shorts bad?” Castiel asked teasingly.

Dean chuckled.  “Only in the best kind of way.”

“I had no idea those would invoke such a reaction in you,” Castiel feigned innocence.

“Right,” Dean said sarcastically.  “We’ll just pretend you didn’t know.” 

Castiel laughed and pushed himself up from the bed.  “Sounds good.”  He winked, and Dean smiled as Castiel walked to the bathroom. 

  

~*~*~*~

 

“So, are we….” Dean started.  “Is this like a one-time deal, or would you be interested in dating or something?”

Castiel hummed thoughtfully as he finished chewing his pizza.  True to his word, once they were both cleaned up, Castiel had shown Dean around his house and let Dean gawk at all the little details that made up his space.  Some of the things Dean found made no sense, like why was there a grumpy cat stuffed animal in the spare bedroom?  And what was the Twister game doing peeking out from under Castiel’s bed?  Overall though, it created an interesting picture that only intrigued Dean further.

Perhaps most surprising of all, after their tour was done, Castiel had asked if Dean wanted to watch a movie and order pizza.  Dean had, of course, agreed.  

“Well, I do believe I invited you over to fuck me,” Castiel pointed out.  Dean’s heart sank a little.  It was stupid, but he had kind of hoped that this would be more than a one-night stand.  They didn’t know much about each other, but what Dean had learned so far, he really liked.  It was scary actually how much he already liked Castiel, and with being next door neighbors…

“You didn’t do that,” Castiel added.  “So, I guess we will need to do this at least one more time,” Castiel said seriously.

Dean looked at Castiel and saw the man was wearing an almost solemn look.  Dean really didn’t know what to make of that.  He shifted, uncomfortable all of a sudden, until Castiel burst into laughter, and Dean realized he had been joking.

“Ass,” Dean accused as Castiel continued giggling. 

“Exactly, Dean.  The ass.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and hit Castiel with one of the throw pillows next to him.  Castiel just grinned widely, and Dean leaned forward and kissed him.  Castiel kissed him back, and as they pulled apart, they both laughed again. 

“I suppose dating is a little less weird than staring at each other across our yards,” Castiel noted. 

“I suppose so,” Dean agreed.  “Staring is less fun at the very least.” 

“Very true.  Although, I do fear for your ‘male masturbators’.  Will they even get any action if we are sleeping together?”  The guy used air quotes to accompany the smug look on his face.

“Oh god,” Dean groaned and placed his face in his hands.  “I can’t believe you received that package.”

Castiel laughed, and Dean felt his cheeks redden slightly.  “Neither can I,” Castiel agreed.

“I am really sorry about that,” Dean tried to apologize through his fingers.

Castiel waved a hand in the air.  “Honestly, when I first opened the package, I assumed Gabriel was playing another prank on me.”

“A prank?” Dean asked.  He dropped his hands from his face and looked up at Castiel.  “That’s a weird prank.” 

“Gabriel is a weird person,” Castiel shrugged.  Based on what he knew about Gabe, Dean had to agree the explanation made sense.  “When I saw though that it was yours…” Castiel’s voice trailed off, and his eyes seemed to darken a little.  “Let’s just say it took all my self-control not to offer my services to you instead.”

Dean let out a breath as he felt desire curl in his stomach again.  “Too bad you didn’t,” he murmured as he crawled onto Castiel’s lap.

“I think it worked out,” Castiel whispered back.  Their lips caught, and as Castiel pulled Dean closer to deepen their kiss, Dean sent a silent thank you to the delivery person who fucked up and finally brought Castiel fully into his life. 


End file.
